Dawn
by KSUnsungHero
Summary: She's just the way she is but no one's told her that's okay


Pain. An incessant ache brought the slumbering form to the surface. Two eyes, shrouded by heavy lids, opened fully in the darkness of the room. It was the time of morning just before dawn that she liked the most. She'd sit down with her ice cold glass of orange juice and the morning news in the background. She never fully paid attention, though, it was just that she'd misplaced her remote and couldn't be bothered to keep pressing the little button on the television set until she found something she'd rather watch.

She felt it again, and the circulation in her fingers ceased as she clutched the blanket. She panted, trying to alleviate the pain through calming her respirations. Inhale. Exhale. Inha…holy mother of…she reached blindly, knocking several items off the nightstand. The first to go was the picture frame she'd placed of herself and Maureen Stabler. Lately the girl had been pouring over college entrance books and had sought her help on more than one occasion. She was becoming so much like her father it was scary. She had secretly confessed one day in the precinct that she wanted to major in Criminal Justice but that she knew Elliot would 'blow a gasket'. Damn straight he would, which is why she kept tight lipped about the whole thing. She cursed as another wave of pain coursed through her body.

Finally, after several seconds of batting her hand around the surface of the wood, she found it. The small, silver object. She pried it open with her thumbnail and listened for the beeps as she scanned the phone's directory. She knew where his number was stored by heart. Slot number four. She hit the send button and held the phone up to her ear. It was ringing. If she ever made it through, she'd have to go to church. Put in a good word for the big guy that Elliot's phone was on even though they weren't catching.

The first ring left her panting, desperately clinging to hope that he would wake. The second made her panic because she didn't know who else to call. Mercifully, he picked up somewhere between the third and fourth rings. She nearly dropped the phone in her relief.

"Liv?" His voice sounded distant, muffled by sleep and the need to know what was going on with her at five twenty seven on a Saturday morning.

"El-liot." To use his nickname would have been far easier. She drew in a ragged breath and tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. She struggled to concentrate on what she was supposed to say. She felt her stomach churn and groaned in response.

"Olivia, tell me what's wrong." He grew more demanding with each passing second. She knew he'd have his jeans on already and would be rifling through the drawer to find a clean shirt to wear. His jacket would already be in his hand and his wallet in his mouth. "Liv?" He'd stick it in his pocket and somehow jam his feet into tennis shoes that had yet to be unlaced. The jingle of the keys told her he was on his way. God love this man, because she didn't have it in her to explain. Not right now.

"Hur-ry." She hated the way her voice sounded; so desperate and weak. She bit down hard on her index finger to keep the shriek muffled that had wanted to escape ever since she'd woken up. She concentrated on her breathing. She didn't need to speak. She knew she should be comforting him somehow, assuring him that it wasn't life threatening. While she'd never been pregnant before, she wondered if the pain was similar to what she was feeling. If she lied and told them she was, would she get the good drugs? Surely they wouldn't notice that her thin figure was void of any child-bearing signs. Damn her flat stomach.

"I'm two minutes away. Yeah, here we go." He was talking to her as if she could see the world through his eyes. She imagined him tapping his hands on the wheel restlessly. It was New York, though, and he would never be granted a path paved with green lights.

"God." The breath was stolen from her the moment she inhaled, allowing her only the opportunity to emit a grunt, followed by a raspy whimper. Whether it was the unfamiliar sound of pain or just the urge to hurry the hell up, she didn't know. She just knew that the sound of the key in her lock never sounded so good to her. She was unable to catch the phone before it fell to the floor. She hoped the battery wouldn't die. Maybe he would close it for her. Later.

"Liv?" Elliot rested a hand on her back while the other found its way into her left hand. The white knuckled hold she had on the blanket grew slack just for a moment, and he let her squeeze his hand in return. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the paleness of her face. "Olivia, look at me. Where does it hurt?"

"Ugh." She was sure she'd hear the small bones in his fingers snap from the pressure she was exerting on them. She tried to recall the different parts of the human anatomy. "Don't know."

"Okay. Try and relax while I call an ambulance." Elliot made a move to stand, only to be forced back down onto the mattress.

"No. I can walk. I just…give me a sec." Olivia groaned and brought her other hand over her left one. She felt him pull his arm up slowly, allowing her to rise up without exerting too much energy. She swayed, feeling the world tilt around her. The bitter taste of bile rose until it had nowhere else to go. She rested her forehead on his knuckles and panted. She would have been embarrassed, had she been thinking clearly.

"Ready to go?" A barely perceptible nod was all he needed. He walked with her as she shuffled across the hardwood floor of the hallway. He was starting to lose feeling in his hand from the grip she had on his fingers. He helped her down the small flight of stairs to the street and held the door open as she passed through. She was hunched over, unable to stand fully. Gingerly, she climbed into the seat. "I'll drive real careful."

She lay curled up in a fetal position on the seat with her head resting against the window. She'd allowed him to have his hand back and was now using the small gap where she usually stuck her phone to get her through the waves of pain.

He pointed his car toward the medical center, praying along the way for the road between her apartment and the hospital to be smooth. He didn't want to cause her any more pain that she was already feeling. Five stop lights later, he pulled up to the emergency parking and went around to her side. He helped her out of the car and slowly walked her through the double doors. She stopped halfway to the window, unable to go any further. With a quick glance back, he walked brusquely to the nurse behind the glass window.

"Yes, sir?" The nurse peered around Elliot at the woman sitting in the chair. She was bent over sideways and seemed to fidget, as if she couldn't find a comfortable position for her pain-wracked body.

"My frie…partner. My partner needs help. I don't know what's wrong with her. Maybe her appendix or her kidney or something." He scanned the waiting room and his eyes fell upon her. Her right foot was tapping the leg of the chair as if it couldn't find any other way to deal with what was happening. "Look it's dead in here. We're both cops. See?" Elliot held up his badge, signaling the older woman what his intentions were.

"Alright. That man's been a thorn in my side for the past hour, though. Your friend or whatever she is can go ahead. Fill this out quickly and bring it back up." She sighed as the drunken man in the corner yelled once again at her to hurry up and get his order. He'd been rambling nonstop about not getting the proper change, and thought she'd just let him sit tight until someone could see him. She wasn't about to be sued. It would be her luck for the man to succumb to alcohol poisoning because she'd turned him away.

"Thank you." Elliot took his seat by Olivia and wrote as fast as he could. He stole glances in her direction, trying to gauge just how bad it was. He ran his hand in circles on her upper back, trying to calm her. He was surprised at how much he knew about her. He'd expect her to know the necessary information; that was how she was. Thorough, efficient.

"Done?" Olivia pried her eyelids open enough to look at him. His brow was furrowed.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just making sure I got it all." Elliot returned to his seat and sighed in relief when a nurse appeared with a wheelchair.

"We'll take good care of her, sir." The nurse helped Olivia into the chair before retreating back down the hallway.

Xoxoxooxoxoxxoxo

He always wondered what would take him out. He never grew curious about her, though, because he had her back; even when she didn't want him to. So, when he'd gotten the call he was surprised, shocked that she was hurt. He instantly panicked, thinking she'd gotten mugged. She was supposed to have gone home after drinks with the guys. He'd never gotten dressed so fast in his life. Just the thought of her lying somewhere barely able to speak made him sick to his stomach.

She'd been in surgery for an hour. It was a routine procedure, he'd been told. He also knew that he'd gotten lucky, though. They'd dodged the proverbial bullet. Her appendix had nearly ruptured. He hated to think about it, and he tried not to. She was going to be fine. She was in recovery, and within a matter of moments, he could see her.

She was resilient, tough all over. The kind of person that constantly amazed the strongest of people. She was compassionate when she needed to be, her words soothing to the victims they saw on a daily basis. He marveled at how she could shift roles from Detective Olivia Benson to the woman she could instantly morph into when the human side was needed. He never saw himself as being able to do that.

His head snapped up as the doors opened. He shot out of his chair, now focused on what the man in the white coat had to say.

"She's doing very well. She's a little groggy from the anesthesia. Like I said earlier, the procedure went off without a hitch. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to see her." The man motioned toward the doors and hit the button on the wall.

The hallways were like a maze, and Elliot wasn't sure he could remember how to get out. It reminded him of an experiment he saw once involving a rat and a small piece of cheese. After just two times, the rodent had memorized the way to the center of the maze.

"Sir?" Dr. Thonen patted Elliot on the back and smiled. "She's just in here. We'll move her to her own room shortly."

"Thanks." Elliot stepped inside. He spotted her instantly. She was flat on her back with a sheet pulled up to her chin. She looked so small and pale, and he had to clear his throat to suppress the urge to lose it right then and there. He picked up her hand and nearly dropped it. With gentle strokes, he rubbed her smooth skin, trying to warm her up. She had goosebumps on her arms and was too weak to pull the sheet over herself fully. As if on cue, a blanket came into his line of vision before he made a move to ask.

"There we go. She should be more comfortable now. I put it in the warmer." The nurse tucked the fabric around Olivia's shivering body and patted her on the head before leaving.

"Better?" He pulled the blanket over her arms and scooted the chair closer.

"Yeah." Her voice was raspy and her throat hurt. She blinked several times, trying to clear her vision. The deep, dense fog that had settled into her brain made it hard for her to focus. She felt her eyelids grow heavy once again and she fought to stay above the surface.

"Go to sleep, Liv." He watched her intently. She emitted a sigh before her body relaxed fully, succumbing to the much needed rest that she needed in order to recover. Just the sight of her nearly stopped his heart. "See you when you wake up." He whispered into her ear and felt around for the familiar shape of her hand. He reached under the blanket and held it once again. The woman would be the death of him. He was sure of it. No bullet or pissed of perp he'd pushed too far in an interrogation would take him out. As he sat there surrounded by machines and nurses and patients, he never took his eyes off of her. When they moved her into her own room, he followed dutifully and took his seat once again.

In the quietness of the room, he realized that she'd rubbed off on him. He was no longer Detective Elliot Stabler. He was a human being, capable of expressing a gentle side he'd reserved for his wife, his kids, and his partner. The side of himself that he thought he'd lost so long ago after too many years on the job, had been reclaimed because of her.

He wanted to wake her, to thank her for molding him into he person he was right then and there. To tell her that all the things she hated about herself were the things he loved about her. To confess that it was because of her that he was able to accept who he was. He wasn't the monster that he thought. He was the man she saw every day that he had no idea existed. As the sun rose above the New York skyline outside the window, he felt content, at peace with who he was, and he was determined to make her see the same about herself.


End file.
